


I'm Scared

by AlphaKantSpell



Category: Heavy Rain
Genre: Child Death, end game spoiler, spoiler - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-05-04
Packaged: 2017-12-10 08:44:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/784105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaKantSpell/pseuds/AlphaKantSpell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end, the Origami Killer waits with the boy for a father who won't be there to rescue him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Scared

At the end, Scott came away from his observatory to be with the boy in person.  He would stand or sit close to the grate, promising the boy he would be there for him as they waited for his father.  None had ever got this far.  Scott didn’t sit with them out of some perverse pleasure – men like Adrian Baker deserved to be strung up for what they did.  He simply couldn’t let the boy drown alone.  Even if the boy’s Father wouldn’t save him, Scott wanted the boy to know he was cared for and would be missed.

            “I know you’re scared,” he said as Jeremy Boyles pressed his lips between the bars and gasped for breath.  Scott doubted the boy could hear him, ears submerged as he thrashed for the last gasps of air.  “To be honest, I’m kinda scared, too.”   

By that time, most of the boys had shouted themselves horse.  Reza had been a screamer, tiny fists thrashing out at Scott before the water overcame him.  That death had been tragic; Hassan hadn’t even tried the first task.  Scott was sick with the thought of it, the familiarity of a father who didn’t care.  In the end, none of them did. 

            Jeremy didn’t have quite as much energy left as Reza did.  They’d had a few days were the rain let up, prolonging the time Jeremy was in the pit and swimming.  The poor boy was exhausted.  He clung to the rails, watching Scott with half words tumbling out.  It broke his heart, it really did. 

            “Please,” Jeremy managed, voice so small in the rush of water running over him that Scott would have missed it had he not been experienced with the final pleas of a downing child.  Scott was well versed in that matter; despite how much he wished he wasn’t.   

            “I’m sorry your Pop doesn’t love you,” Scott said, voice full of empathy but resigned in the way he’d perfected in the Marines.  “Mine didn’t love me, either.” 

            When the rain finally took him, Jeremy’s head bobbed against the grate.  Scott had been doing this long enough to distinguish between the final throws of drowning and the simple force of a body in the current.  Jeremy was the last.  Although time was precious, Scott waited another half hour.  Rare as it was, children this young could go into a hypothermic shock that imitated death.  Scott didn’t want to take any chances, his secrecy was crucial to start again with another boy to find the perfect Father. 

Waiting also gave the Father a few more minutes chance to rescue his son, though Scott doubted Jeremy’s father would be arriving any time soon.  He’d lost contact with the man somewhere in the Butterfly Trial.  Pity.  Scott thought Jeremy’s father was the best candidate so far.  Although poor, it was obvious he loved his children and his wife, rocking the new baby while he worked with Jeremy on his homework.  Scott’s own father never glanced and he and John’s school work and Alan Winters would rather play with his son than help his academia.      

The half hour came and went.  Scott ran a palm over his eyes and steeled himself as he lifted the grate.  Jeremy’s small corpse was dragged out of the pit, skin pale and puffy with bulged eyes like a fish turned upside-down in a forgotten tank.  Taking a moment to shut the boy’s eyes, Scott picked him up and marched the body out.

Scott wasn’t a bad guy.  He wasn’t cruel like the men he employed or insane like some of the people he’d arrested over the years.  Scott had a goal in mind, a test for anyone who dared call himself Father.  Scott didn’t enjoy watching these men go through their trials.  The first time around he wept for a week straight after dropping the body off at the first rail road he could find.  He must have folded a thousand paper dogs, each one made with newspaper articles about the death.  The dogs were misshapen and stained by Scott’s tears but he knew when he finished that he had done what must be done.  Watching children drown was not something Scott got off on.  It was something he had to do, tasked with watching Fathers fail their sons in the most spectacular way.   

In the car, the boy’s flower and dog were already waiting for him.  They, along with the gloves he was already wearing were items Scott brought with him when he drove to the warehouse.  Both were on the passenger’s seat, dry and ready for Jeremy when Scott found the best place for him.  Since the first death, Scott had been careful to place the corpses in areas that wouldn’t lead back to him.  He thanked his extensive military and police carrier for teaching him how to commit a crime. 

Scott loaded the boy into the trunk and studied his crumpled form. 

“Nothing personal, Jeremy.  You understand, right?”

The corpse didn’t answer but Scott wasn’t expecting one. 

 


End file.
